I Saw Him Standing There//pjm

Chapter 3:

*Anna's POV*

Paul sat me down on one of the sofas and sat next to me.

"Don't worry, John'll be here in a moment. I believe he went to use the loo." I hid a shy smirk from him. His accent was just too cute. In fact, it was even cuter in person. Then my stomach began to bubble with panic. I was going to meet John Lennon. The John Lennon whom I've read and heard so much about. The John Lennon whom I was both scared and fond of. My thoughts were interrupted by Paul's foot tapping and humming. I recognized the melody immediately. The song was  "I Want To Be Your Man". After pondering over it for awhile, I decided to ask Paul the question I've been dying to ask him since he appeared in my room.

"P...Paul? Can I ask you something?" Paul turned to look at me and grinned.

"Anything, love." Another heart alter.

"Are you...are you real?" Paul looked at me for a moment before answering.

"Well, tell me this," He said. "Does this feel real?" And in that moment, Paul leaned in slowly and kissed my cheek. When he pulled back to look at me, I looked down at my hands and blushed.

"Very." I felt a little breathless. From the corner of my eye, I could see Paul looking me over and I looked back up to his face. I hoped he hadn't noticed my face turn red.

"Anna? You didn't 'appen to bring any other clothes 'ave you?" I looked at him a little shocked.

"No. Do my clothes look out of date?" Paul shook his head and held one of my hands.

"No, your clothes are fine. But, you need to wear more than just the same blouse and skirt everyday. I bet we still have some of my mother old dresses that would fit you." I smiled but felt bad at the way his eyes looked a little sad. I didn't want to intrude in on his life too much. 

He must have read my thoughts as he patted my hand reassuringly. "No, no. It's okay. And I'm sure you'd fit in 'em just fine, she was a petite woman." My smile grew a little bigger. 

The bathroom door opened and John walked back into the living room.

"So Paul, I was thinkin', we should work on the last song an' call it a..." John sat down on the arm of a chair across from us and looked from Paul to me to Paul again. "So ya finally picked up a lovely bird 'aven't ya?" I felt my cheeks burn with heat and my heart beat faster. Why the heck did John call me a bird?

"Eh, not exactly..." John scoffed.

"'Course you 'ave son. She's right there." John sat at the edge of the chair now, studying my face. I could feel my eyes water at just the sight of John. He was going to die in 18 years and he didn't even know it. I abruptly stood up and excused myself.

"Sorry, I...I have to use the bathroom." Once inside I leaned against the closed door and let the tears stream down my cheeks. As I cried, I overheard their conversation.

"What was that all 'bout?"

"I'm not sure, John. She just showed up to the house, sayin' her cabbie dropped her off in the middle of nowhere and was lost. She's a litle emotional right now, give the poor girl a break." John scoffed again, this time a bit harsher.

"What'dya think? I was lookin' right at her an' she teared up. I tell ya lad, she seems different from the other birds." Paul sighed.

"Look, I'm whipped, John. Maybe you should just 'ead home and call it a night."

"And leave you 'lone with that bird? Nah. I wanna stay 'ere for this." Although I heard John get up from the chair. "Alright, alright. I'm leavin'. See ya tomorrow then."